No Inspiration
by Okita1209
Summary: Higurashi Kagome attends the most prestegious arts university in all of Japan ... her only problem being that she doesn't have any inspiration and midterms are comming up soon. Rereposted all chapters
1. A Deadly Disease

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.**

_A Deadly Disease  
Chapter 1_

Four seconds…

Three seconds…

Two seconds…

One…and then time apparently decided to go off on a tangent and froze.

Higurashi Kagome put a hand to her forehead in an attempt to suppress her boiling rage. Something, maybe an abnormally large Dust Bunny of Doom, had stuck itself in time's gears and halted everything. Why today, of all days for the dust bunnies to escape from Hell, why today? Apparently she was being punished because Enma and her professor had made an agreement and part of it was that all Kyoto City University art students should be made to suffer. Well…hooray for mentally harassing certain damnable professors for a bit longer.

Wait…was that movement she saw? _And the hand of the almighty Kami-sama shall smite Enma's evil dust bunnies,_ she prayed. The hands moved forward at a speed of what seemed to be a micrometer per second…if seconds really even existed anymore. _Onegai, _Kagome prayed, _just let today end. _And it would seem that through the prayers of herself and the other forty-two students in her class, Kami-sama had decided to banish the Dust Bunnies of Duem back to the of the couches from Hell where they'd come from.

RRIIINNNNGGGGG!

The thunderous sound of forth-three students all standing up simultaneously was the second of the only two pleasant things she'd heard all day. The first pleasant sound, or voice rather, had been that of the man at the coffee shop just down the street from her apartment declaring in a very loud voice that her order was up. Coffee, being the nectar of the Kami and all, was enjoyed by all Kyoto City University students and thus it had taken her nearly half an hour to actually get her coffee; but in the end…it was all worth it…well, the coffee part at least.

Professor Nanada had known better that to shout out her usual warnings of when which projects were due; such a gesture would be utterly pointless. Instead, the aging woman simply shook her head and muttered under her breath about college students and Fridays. However, through all of her infinite wisdom, she had also become the source of her students' disquiet. Oh yeah, this lady was slick, spent all of the class acting as if nothing important was going to happen, then, ten minutes before the bell, declare the worse news of the week.

Midterms. A series of paintings assigned to the students covering all of the art forms they'd been suffering through over the past five months. Every year it was the same, she'd give the assignment and this year the students had bitched and moaned endlessly, but the old hag had held firm. They were to paint six different perspectives in three weeks, each one connecting in some way to the others; no wonder they called them the "cursed canvases".

Sketch paper got off easy; it got to make a rather pleasant trip to the recycle bin if it wasn't any good or it was given the honor of being stuffed into a crowded and cluttered portfolio if it was. But the six completed canvases, they were to be handed in for the Professor-From-Hell's scrutiny. That is, it one could find the proper inspiration in order to even begin, because if one had no motivation, then one was screwed, and if one was screwed, one failed their course not long after.

Kagome raced out of the door and down the front lawn, numerous waves and greetings met her as she proceeded towards her apartment across the street. Conveniently enough, that very complex was home to almost every other student that went to Kyoto City University, and hopefully, with at least one of them helping her, she'd be able to fix her problem; find a decent enough cure to the deadly disease that had befallen her. Inspiration was an artist's lifeblood, what gave them the ability to live through the day, and Higurashi Kagome was deathly ill, nearly dead in all actuality.

Yes indeed, ideas that she'd been carting around for months no longer seemed quite as intriguing; it was as if someone had sucked all of the excitement out of them. She had downplayed them over and over again so that they would fit inside the parameters some higher order had set; they quickly became boring, too normal and rational for her tastes, and then were quickly replaced by better ones. Unfortunately, she had rethought and downsized and replaced her ideas so many times that she'd turned all of her incredibly artistic brilliance into a tremendous artistic flump.

"Hey, Kagome chan!" came the familiar voice of her best friend.

"Hey," she responded rather destitute, complete with false smile and semi-cheerful wave.

"Still nothing, huh?"

"I'm just in a block, Sango chan, it's like I'm staring at a piece of drywall waiting for it to turn into a castle."

Sango tucked a loose strand of her long, jet-black hair back up into her messy bun with a sigh. "Well…why don't you just go over to the library and look up some of the legends again? I'm sure they'll give you some ideas. Besides, you always paint scenes from ancient Sengoku Jidai fairytales anyway, ne?"

As then two crossed the bustling street alongside nearly a hundred other students, Kagome replayed all of the sketches and paintings she'd done prior to her meltdown.

The majority of them had been done in the images of a miko and her hanyou lover standing before the very shrine Kagome herself had grown up in. These scenes mostly took place around the time when the sakura blossoms bloomed and fell, but this was only to give the two occupants of the scene an air or romance.

Some had been about the betrayal of the silver-haired hanyou and how the miko had dealt her heart-breaking retribution to keep him from taking something of great importance from within the temple. Scant few of Kagome's sketches portrayed a great daiyoukai and the fierce passion between himself and his beautiful youkai mate; then his despair when death had separated him from her, and finally, the same lord taking a ningen onna into his home to overcome the grief that had consumed him by the loss.

"Cheesy old romances,' Kagome huffed.

Walking up the stairs to the seventh floor, she shook her head in self-disappointment. Right when she opened her mouth to say something, Ayumi, Yuka, and Eri all yelled out a loud konnichiwa" and waved enthusiastically. The two returned aforementioned pleasantries, not daring to stop to chat for fear of being subject to the other girls' mindless chattering. When they were out of hearing range and finally on their own floor, Sango shuddered.

"They," she said pointedly, "are far too happy. They act like they should still be in high school."

Kagome snickered, "They're entitled to happiness should they want it. Besides, we look like a pair of hobos."

Sango and Kagome looked down at their attire and laughed heartily. Both of them wore paint-covered loose jeans and overly large button-up male dress shirts. Neither had any make up on or clean shoes, and their hair was tucked into sloppy buns at the back of their heads. The two could have been sisters what with their sleeves rolled up past their elbows and books with brushes as place-holders, paper and pencils tucked under their arms.

As the two of them continued laughing, Sango unlocked and opened the door to the two-room flat they shared. They took off their shoes and set down their supplies on their respected desks, and then Sango turned to her friend.

"So what were you going to say before?" she asked, curiosity clearly written on her features and her chocolate eyes imploring with that same curiosity.

Cerulean eyes blinked out from a momentarily dazed state and Kagome found her voice soon after. "Oh, that…well, it just feels like I've managed to miss something somehow…I dunno. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I've got the feeling that it's important, almost like if one of the main characters was missing from one of the manga you've drawn.

"I need a rivalry over something ... something that someone needs to want more than anything else, but I get the feeling maybe they can't have it because someone else controls it. There's something in my mind screaming for action, but when I try to figure it out…every time…my edge goes dull and my ideas just turn into mush." She mentally cringed at the image of her little thoughts running around then swelling up and combusting shortly after, leaving her with a horrid mess to clean up.

Kagome sighed as she pulled her hair loose from the bindings around the bun and shoo it out so that the wavy strands wouldn't stick out at odd angles. But, as usual, her efforts were in vain and she let out a frustrated groan. "I just don't know anymore," she huffed, flopping down onto the too-cushy couch like a sack full of bones. "Ne, what do you think? Am I being unreasonable and reading way too much into this or am I still sane?"

Kagome watched her friend as she thought for a moment; hell, every idea Sango had advised up to this point had helped her out, so…for mentioned savior to save the day…again! Then Sango began to rub the bridge of her nose, a dead giveaway that she didn't think any of her ideas would mesh with Kagome's. The cerulean-eyed girl watched as the other's color-coated fingers moved in relaxing motions from the bridge of her nose to her temples; Sango had a migraine.

"I'm sorry to bother you with my problems, Sango chan. Why don't you go ahead and lie down, I'll make tea," she offered, getting up off the couch and heading for the kitchen.

"No, no, please don't worry about me," Sango said waving her hands, "I think that you should go to the library, though. You're sure to find what you're looking for there. That's how you first started seeing these people anyway." She flopped down in Kagome's spot on the couch; for a moment, cerulean met ebony and a form of understanding passed between the two of them.

flashback

_A thirteen year old Kagome stood before a huge shelf full of Sengoku Jidai fairytales and she was awestruck at just how many there were. Then, shaking herself out of her stupor, she ran her finger down each title untilo she would find one that caught her interest and take it off the shelf. By the time she found one titled "Inu no Taisho" she already had four other books with her. Technically speaking, she was only allowed to get three books, but she'd known the head librarian her whole life, so it wouldn't be a problem taking the fourth as well. But there was something about that particular one that caught her interest the most, something that made her want to drop all the other ones adn run out of the library with it. So, she pulled it from the shelf after putting away the other books, and when she opened it up, she was in another world entirely._

There were no shelves full of books, no people mulling around carrying papers and grumbling about getting into a decent college, there weren't even any buildings. Kagome stood there, in the middle of a sunlit meadow with the warmth of a summer breeze blowing on her face. The trees were tall and healthy and the entirety of the place was pleasantly devoid of all the city sounds she'd grown so accustomed to over the years of her life.

"Who are you?" came a boy's voice from behind her.

She spun quickly on her heel to find a young boy with beautiful silver hair and eyes that looked like they were made of molten gold, she absently noticed his elfin ears and the huge boa-looking thing wrapped over his right shoulder. His skin was smooth and pale and she thought she was either blushing or drooling ... or both, and at the moment that was undignified. But he was sooooo pretty.

"Are you going to answer this Sesshoumaru?" he demanded, giving her a look of pure annoyance.

She opened her mouth to speak to him, feeling rather stupid holding an open book while she was standing in such a person's presence. Then she was snapped back to the library before the shelves upon shelves of Sengoku Jidai fairytales. Later that day she'd gone to Sango's house and they'd talked about it in hushed tones until the next day when they went back to the library to try out the book again, but it wouldn't work. Kagome, of course, was devistated, she'd so looked forward to sharing what she'd seen with Sango. But when she turned to her friend, Sango only smiled and told her that she was special if the book had let her see that. After that, Kagome had opened up many other books, sometimes being allowed to see and participate in what was happening in her brief journies, other times she'd only been allowed to watch what was unfolding around her. However, she'd never seen that silver-haired boy after the first time, a pity, too, he was so beautiful.

end flashback

A slight yet gracious smile crossed Kagome's features, Sango had problems of her own to deal with and what with midterms coming up, she sure didn't need anyone else's to deal with as well. So the bright blue-eyed girl hugged her friend, kissed her on the cheek and then strolled over to the front door. As she pulled on her horribly abused shoes and opened the door she called out over her shoulder:

"Domo, Sango chan, and drink some tea, you'll feel better!"

-.- NEKO!

The entire three hours after she'd left her apartment, Kagome had spent at the library looking for…something…anything other than what she already had. It had taken her all of an hour and a half to hunt down and make copies of nearly twenty different stories from the Sengoku Jidai. But nothing she'd found seemed to fit the certain criteria she was looking for; it was all very interesting, the stories themselves were amazing, but nothing seemed to jump out and yell, "Hey, it's me, I'm the one, pickmepickmepickme!" Now that she was on her way back to her apartment, she wondered why she'd bothered with going to the library at all.

So, she trudged warily back up the stairs to her seventh story flat, carting at least a thousand papers in both of her arms. Despite what everyone told her about her drawing and painting skills, she almost wished that she'd become an actress, or a musician, or even an author instead. Then all she'd have to worry about was a fifteen-page paper full of her own words and thoughts of No Inspiration Syndrome. But did she take the easy road? No, she had to be a hard ass artist…a painter to be exact. Here she was, her freshman year in college, end of the first semester, and she'd already lost her passion. Who was she kidding, what kind of artist lost their passion for doing what they loved in only five months?

Kagome shook her head, _I'm not gonna quit,_ she re-assured herself, _I'm going to do this assignment and I'm gonna get a damn GRIP!_

So she held her head a little higher and put a little more bounce into her step…all of the remaining three meters to the door, then she giggled at herself. _Yep, that's MY idea of getting a grip, damn good job Kagome, damn good job._

Wouldn't that be something, an artist really, actually going insane from a lack of inspiration? She could see it now, headlines in the newspapers all around the world; "No Inspiration Syndrome Squeezes the Life From Japanese Art Student." Oh yeah, maybe she should have been a doctor instead. Symptoms of No Inspiration Syndrome include loss of passion over short periods, looking like a crazed person at random points of the day, going to the library for no reason at all, talking to oneself, unexplainable ripping out of one's hair on a consistent basis, and last but not least…making up stupid, redundant, and rhetorical questions. Yup, Higurashi Kagome was definitely ill, fatally ill, HOORAY FOR BEING INSANE!

"I'm back!" she called out to Sango after she had managed to let herself back in, what with her arms being full and all.

"Oh, good. I'm making oden for dinner so go ahead and take a shower if you need to, it won't be done for a while," came the other's voice as it echoed off the cheap formica and tile surfaces.

In an instant, Kagome had gone from the threshold of the foyer to the kitchen and was standing just behind Sango chanting: "Oden, oden, oden, oden, oden", as if it would somehow hasten the cooking process. Sango covered her mouth and snorted before both she and Kagome laughed at the childish antics. Then the older girl became quiet suddenly, as if someone had just turned off a switch or something. She had been doing that a lot lately, just shutting down like some kind of broken machine, and Kagome worried about her despite being told not to.

"How's your family doing?" she asked, concern evident in her voice and on her face.

For a moment she thought her friend wouldn't answer her question, but when Sango smiled she knew everything would be all right.

"They're busy keeping up the business, some…complications have been slowing down their progress. But all in all, things have been looking up." She smiled a little, "Kohaku's even talking again."

Kagome threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly, "Oh, Sango-chan, I'm so happy for you!"

She released Sango from her bone-crushing grip after a few seconds more, then placed her hands on her hips and grinned like the cat that had eaten the family canary and not gotten caught. "Besides, I know a certain Souma Miroku who would love to be graced with at least a moment of your valuable time," and then the two of them laughed some more.

And so the afternoon turned into evening and evening into night, all worries and frets of the impending midterm forgotten. They laughed and ate oden and laughed some more until it was late and their eyes would no longer focus. Lights went out after they'd both taken showers and "oyasuminasai" were exchanged before their bedroom doors were closed. The copies of the tales from the Sengoku Jidai lay forgotten on the floor beside Kagome's shoes, a loose sheet or two not in line with the others, but she wouldn't worry about it until tomorrow…or maybe the day after…

-.- NEKO!

Fwee! I checked over it for grammitical errors and now they are no more ... kudos for Souji. Thanks for reading!  
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	2. Infinante Worthless Information

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.**

_Infinante Worthless Ideas  
Chapter 2_

Twitch…

Twitch…

Flip page…

Twitch…

Kagome was most definitely not in a good mood; it would seem that her initial suspicion from yesterday afternoon had been correct. The tales that she's procured, read, re-read and read again, were completely lacking in the area she needed them most. While there were some rivalries amongst warlords and emperors, none of the things they sought seemed to fit into her still-frame drama, and that agitated her.

"Useless, completely and utterly useless," she grumbled in her annoyance.

She picked up the papers, taking a few moments to neatly stack them, then she proceeded to throw the pile across the table. Sango had entered the room just as the top two thirds of the stack slid across the smooth lacquer finish only to flutter like heavy, ackward feathers to the wooden floor. An amused expression crossed her face as she watched Kagome bang her head against the poor, helpless table.

The chocolate-eyed girl giggled at the other's antics, "I bear coffee, oh mighty beater-of-thy-head-upon-tables."

A muffled snort came from the face that was at the moment, plastered to the lacquer surface, then shortly after, it desuctioned itself to seek out the mentioned 'nectar of life'; for with coffee, all things are possible.

"Arigatou, Sango-chan," Kagome said quickly before taking a cautious sip of the steaming beverage that was handed to her.

Sango gave her a lopsided smirk and sat down, eyes still brimming with thinly-veiled amusement. "Nothing yet?" she inquired.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something, just not in that," she declared, waving her hand to the mess across from her as if to dismiss it from her presence. "It was a good idea though."

Yes, leave it up to Kagome to spend the better part of four hours looking through useless information and still thank the one whom had given her the idea for subjecting her to pointless torture, even though she had known the torture was pointless to begin with. Three weeks…that gave her plenty of time to locate some good inspiration and paint it down on a canvas or two ... or six. Kagome snickered at her own thought and when Sango cocked an eyebrow at her she attempted to explain her amusement. "Instead of writing something down, I'm going to paint something down, go figure, ne?"

For all of five seconds, the two stared at each other over their coffee mugs then said together, "That was really bad." Then they laughed, and not because it was particularly funny, but because it had become so much of a second nature to them. There they were, Kagome dressed in dark blue boxers and a wife beater, Sango in pink pajama pants and a black tank, and it was the most comfortable feeling in the world. Their laughter died down and they looked at their reflections in the black lacquer table. It was good to be able to be so close to someone, to be able to talk with that person about anything or nothing and not worry about feeling incredibly insecure. Nothing, however, seemed to be the topic of the day, so Kagome decided that she was going to pick it up and run with it.

"BWI!" she shouted, slamming both hands down on the table simultaniously.

Sango's head snapped up and after a moment she burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, "but that was just too random."

"Let's go and do something fun today," Kagome decided. "I just want to forget everything concerning my midterm and do something fun; let'sget out for a while, ne?"

"But shouldn't you-"

"Worry about it when we get back? Great idea, let's go!" Kagome was not usually one to drop schoolwork and get back to it later.

The paintings were getting beneath her skin, pretty deep in fact, for her to simply push them aside without so mush as a second thought. But Sango didn't complain; they hadn't done anything fun in the past few weeks. This could be exactly what her friend needed in order to recapture her inspiration. Since neither of them had anyone to impress, they simply showered and dressed quickly, not bothering with any sort of cosmetics, as usual. Old, worn out and faded hip-huggers along with over-sized dress shirts and ratty tennis shoes were becoming a norm between the two of them. Then Kagome remembered something and for a moment, she wondered if she would ever be as lucky as Sango. To have someone care for her so deeply that he'd go to her best friend to make sure she was alright.

"I hate to nag," she admitted with feigned disinterest, "but you really should talk to Sohma-san. He's been asking after you for nearly a month now."

"Was this before or after he attempted to fondle your ass?" Sango asked with a laugh.

"The truth is, he didn't even try this time."

Souhma Miroku, the most notorious lecher in all of Kyoto University, had been acting most out of character since Kagome had introduced him to Sango. He'd gone from groping every girl on campus (except for the professors), to groping only Sango. She was now the only one he asked to "bear his child" as well. Yes indeed, Kagome had done a good thing when she had introduced those two; she'd known that if anyone was a good match for her best friend, it would be Souhma-san. An over-exasperated sigh escaped Kagome as she and Sango walked out of their flat and into the brilliant sunshine.

"You should seriously give him half a chance, Sango. You never know, he could just be the one to make you happy."

The other girl flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder in a gesture of pretend haughtiness, "I don't need someone to make me happy."

"We'll see," Kagome stated knowingly.

"Hey, what do you mean by that?" came her friend's playful demand complete with a light punch to the shoulder.

But Kagome only smiled as they strode down the stairs without a care in the world.

-.- NEKO!

Kagome's eyes seemed to mirror the bright and cloudless sky as she sat in a chair at an outdoor restaurant. She hadn't been particularly hungry, but she'd needed an excuse to break away from Sango when Miroku had shown up. Despite all of her friend's accusations, she hadn't planned on meeting up with him and not even Miroku's shameless testimony would change her mind.

_flashback_

_The two had just wandered out of the bookstore when a familiar voice called out to them. It was Souhma Miroku and as he shouted over to the two girls he waved enthusiastically. So, they waited as he ran up to them, Kagome shifting her bag full of purchases from one hand to the other in an attempt to keep from grinning like an idiot. _

_"You planned this!" Sango accused, her voice lowered to a fierce whisper. _

_"Planned what?" she asked truthfully, "I have no idea how he found us. I swear it's probably just a coincidence." _

_Had Miroku not heard the last part he might have saved himself from getting slapped; you see, he never could keep his mouth closed, not even when his own personal health was on the line. "Why, dear Kagome-sama, this is no mere coincidence," he stated, slightly gasping for breath. _

_Sango smirked victoriously for a moment at a dumbfounded Kagome, but Miroku hadn't quite finished his declaration yet. _

_"I've been following you since you left the university grounds." And the only thing after that was the sound of Sango's hand hitting his face. _

_end flashback_

Nothing could please Kagome more at the moment; Sango's heart was healing and she'd helped her to find a piece of joy in someone other than herself. She didn't care that she still had yet to find her ideas or that the midterm paintings wouldn't get any further from being due. Sango was happy, she was smiling and had even agreed to go to a concert downtown with Souhma-san. All things considered, today had turned out all right. Besides, Higurashi Kagome had reading material now, and that was always a good thing. She fished out a book from her shopping bag and began to read.

Words turned to pictures as she turned the pages, new and better tales from around the Sengoku Jidai period unfolding in her mind. The flurry of dialogue wrapped around the images she'd constructed in her mind. Scenes of infatuation, passion, betrayal, and battle twisted and turned within her consciousness. A single ningen sitting in the midst of dozens of dead youkai, exhaustion rocking a samurai to the core as he traveled the long road home, warlords making and breaking agreements with armies of loyal followers that would live and die by the sword.

Here and there a silver-haired demon would flitter through the background of her mind like a shadow, someone whom she knew was important to the story, but had been left out somehow. It was almost like history had tried to erase his legacy, but the impact he left behind him was too great to simply disappear altogether. Kagome was so caught up in the story playing through her mind that she didn't notice the sky growing cloudy and dark, nor did she pay any mind to the wind that had suddenly picked up. Then, just before the warlord's wife was being sentenced to death for betrayal and infidelity, the clouds opened up and a mighty storm fell through the sky.

She slammed her book shut and shoved it back into the plastic bag the moment she felt the first raindrop. Somehow, she'd found her idea, but she didn't quite know what it was yet. The youkai she'd glimpsed in the back of her mind had to be the key. However, shadows without a form didn't make for proper paintings and she could only imagine what Professor Nanada would say. On second thought … maybe she wouldn't, it could be damaging to her self-esteem. As the downpour drenched her, Kagome stood up and walked back to her apartment as if in a daze. Various thoughts and pictures racing through her mind as she wondered about the demon that she had both seen and not seen. He'd seemed so real to her, and now that she thought about it, even though everyone knew youkai to be nothing but mere fiction, she couldn't help but hope.

She looked from person to person as they hurried down the sidewalks to escape the falling shower. Just a glimpse was all she wanted, just a look at his face, and she searched for it in the faces of those around her. The renewed determination and passion in her heart were not able to override her common sense for long, though. So she snapped out of her glazed-over state and walked with a little more purpose in her step. No sense in ruining books she'd only just bought because she wanted to look for someone she had made up in her overly romantic head.

_I can't believe I'm being so silly,_ she chastised herself, _next thing you know I'll be in the loony bin for sure and Sango won't even want to hang around me._

Kagome chuckled to herself and hastened her step as lightning tore through the clouds above. By the time she got home, she was drenched from head to foot and clutching her shopping bag full of books tightly in her hand to keep the shower from reaching the contents within. She unlocked the door and stepped inside calling out "I'm home". But when she started taking off her soaking wet shoes, she noticed that Sango hadn't come back yet.

_Where could she be?_ she wondered, working herself out of her clothes on her way to the bathroom. _She couldn't have gone to Sohma-san's … could she?_

But no matter how many ways Kagome thought it through, that was the most logical place for her two friends to be. After all, Miroku's apartment was a block and a half closer when one was traveling from the convention centre to the complex.

_Come on, Kagome, Sango's a big girl. I'm sure she can handle a simple thunderstorm._

So, Kagome relaxed and hung her wet clothes over the edge of the bathtub before going to her own room and slipping on and over-sized T-shirt and dry boxer shorts. With Sango and Miroku's safety tucked securely in her mind, she allowed herself to think back on the silver-haired demon. She couldn't quite understand why a single shadowy figure plagued her so, or why she had gone as far as to search for him despite the fact she had never even seen his face.

_The book!_ she concluded. _Maybe …_

If the book was what had brought about this sudden fascination, then perhaps it would help her to figure out who the youkai was. Of course, Kagome didn't know for sure if he was a demon, or even if he was a he at all. But damn it, she was sorting out ideas, and that was a start. So, she rushed back to the entry way and dug the book out of the plastic bag, not even bothering to re-locate the contents so that they didn't get squashed when Sango came back. When she'd finally found the place where she had been forced to stop reading, Kagome was already sitting comfortably on the couch.

As thunder crashed around her, she read through the pages, determined to discover who and what the shadow was … or had been … As she read, Kagome couldn't help but remember a pale face and molten gold eyes from some where ... sometime that she couldn't place. A dream or a memory of something in a library. Silver hair flashed before her vision and then disappeared behind shadows, taunting her, daring her to come and find him wherever he was. So on she read, trying to figure out who he was, where she'd seen him before, how it was that she could have possibly known about him before she'd even read this book. Her mind went on a vacation through every page she read, chasing the ends of his silver hair into what seemed like oblivion.

Then there was an enormous bolt of lightning and the thunder that folowed almost immediately after, Kagome was shocked out of her spot on the couch into standing, ready for an attack, though of what she wasn't sure. _What're you thinking, Kagome?_ she scolded herself, _it's not like demons are gonna come and get you just for reading a book about them._

The light next to the couch flickered once ... twice ... then went out, along with every other electronic item in the apartment complex she lived in. Yeah, she could take a hint, it was time to back off for a while, _Sleep on it for a night, then decide what I'm gonna do with it in the morning._

So, she closed her book after marking her place with a pencil then walked out onto the small balcony that, oddly enough, faced the complex behind the one she lived in.The rain fell like stage curtains, closing off one act to open on another, the lightning and thunder its standing ovation. Fortuately enough, most everybody in the complexes was a college student, out partying or clubbing or drinking and making complete fools of themselves, so she was left to contemplate her still-frame drama alone. How had history erased such an enormous culture? Was it even erased at all, or was it just hidden for the "good" of humans. Kami knew what humans would do if they weren't the center of the universe anymore, not the smartest or the most powerful or ... or what? It was human nature to want ot be better, a typical superiority complex, to want to be smarter and more technologically advanced. But could that lead to the destruction of an entire species? Just because of engenuity and pride?

Kagome snorted to herself, could believe that, she'd seen it in action on one of her many trips through her books. She'd seen the sin that drove all of mankind towards the destruction of the planet: greed, pride, lust, gluttony, sloth, wrath, envy ... they were present in every human's mind. It was the same sins that drove husbands to beat their wives and children, tha same madness that caused wars and murder. Kagome knew that humans were capable of great evil, but they were also capable of great good as well. So, the question remained: how could an entire species with culture and traditions all their own just disappear?She sighed to herself and gazed out at the rain that fell beyond her small balcony, then she reached a hand out to the acid rain that fell from the sky. If humans were able to completely destory youkai, then it was no wonder that they'd destroyed themselves as well. People had become slanderous and desgusting over the centuries, growing lazy in their comfort of being the "top dog" so to speak. No, humans were no longer the well-mannered beings they had been in the books she had seen into, they were dirty and conniving and ruthless in their race for power.

_So ... this is what we've done to ourselves,_ she thought in her meloncholy state of mind, letting the impurity of the water fall through her fingers. _Would he hate us for what we've done?_ Kagome felt suddenly that she had let down the demon lord, she was part of what had destroyed his world. She'd seen what the world had been and had done nothing to stop its decline. So she hung her head, letting the rain continue to fall through her fingers.

-.- NEKO!

Okies ... errors in this chapter are fixed as well, I'm not quite sure why it posted so strangely ... I apologize profusely for the first time I posted this and it looked like one huge paragraph. I'm still working on chapter six, I appreciate your patience as I'm currently working on three stories at the moment.

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	3. Talk About Motivation

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.**

_Talk About Motivation  
Chapter 3_

It had been a week, one whole week since Higurashi Kagome had picked up the book and started reading it, but she was still at a loss as to who the silver-haired demon was. All that she'd found out was that he was the first and only pure blood son to the dog general Inutaishou, or as the story referred to him, Inu-no Taisho. He was also the ruler of all the western lands in Japan, and while he did not rule with an iron fist, he was the strongest of all the daiyoukai. Thus, Kagome had been left to make her own assumptions as to his character, his state of mind, what he was known for.

Ever since she had first picked up the book, she had sensed a great loneliness within him. She also sensed a certain amount of possessiveness and a great deal of stubbornness, too. Somewhere along the way she'd gotten the idea that he wouldn't admit something if he thought it would make him seem weak in any way. It made sense, though, why give anyone a weapon to use against you, why let someone hurt you when you can prevent it? Maybe he had something to protect, _someone_ to protect, but he wouldn't admit it because he was strong, untouchable and he didn't _need_ anyone. Kagome was sure that as far as he was concerned, nothing could hurt him, nothing could weaken him, and there was no way that he would admit to something that wasn't true.

She sighed as she traced her reflection in the lacquer surface of her table; one week gone and all she had, was an idea. A single thread, maybe two, but certainly not enough to weave the tapestry that she needed, let alone six. It was at that moment that a knock sounded at the front door, making Kagome jump out of her thoughts. When the knock came again, she stood up and went to see who would possibly call on her. Sango and Miroku had gone out to dinner only moments before, which meant it couldn't be for either of them. So…who could it be?

The woman on the other side of the threshold looked utterly exhausted, her feathery gray hair held out of her face in a tight bun and her spectacles hanging on the edge of her proud nose. When Kagome opened the door, she was slightly surprised, but this visit was not completely unexpected. She'd been quite the slacker during that class, believe it or not. She was fine in all of her other classes, though, perfect scores across the board. But since Nanada-sensei's class was her core class ... well, let's just say that things weren't looking up for her.

"Sensei," she greeted with a slight bow, "onegai, come in."

"Arigatou, Higurashi," Professor Nanada said with an almost dismissive nod, "but I'm only here to give you a small bit of advice."

Yep, this visit was definitely what she thought it would be, so Kagome looked the older woman right in the face. She would not let the professor intimidate her, nor would she lose her cool. She'd practically asked for this after the past week.

"Higurashi," the professor started, "you are one of the best students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. You posses a great talent that I have only seen in very few people, but I'm afraid talent means nothing if you don't use it."

It was all Kagome could do to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. Nanada sensei never complimented _anyone_, but there she stood, quite obviously telling Kagome, Higurashi Kagome, that she had talent. Not to mention that she had implied that her talent was a rare one and that she was one of the best students she had ever taught. Wow...she must have been possessed by one of those body snatchers or...well...something because this was definitely _not_ normal.

"You're a phenomenal artist, Higurashi, and I hate to be the one to tell you this. I understand that sll of my students work at different paces, however, your other class mates have all turned in at least one canvas already. I'm afraid that if you don't get to work on your paintings soon, you'll be in danger of failing this semester. I am here to remind you that if you do not pass this semester, your scholarship may very well be terminated and you'll either have to find some other way to pay for your courses or you'll have to leave the university.

"Gomen ne, Kagome. I know that this isn't what you wanted to hear, but I'm afraid it must be said. For your own sake, I hope you find your muse again, I would be very displeased if I have to fail you because of an artistic block. So, now that I've given you all the warning I can, I do look forward to seeing your work once more. Konbanwa, Higurashi."

"Konbanwa, sensei." Kagome closed the door then slid down to the floor and drew her knees up to rest under her chin.

Professor Nanada was right; she couldn't afford to not do the midterm canvases even though all of the rest of her previous projects had received high marks. A hundred divided by two was fifty, and since the midterm was half of the semester's final mark, she could be in very real danger of failing. However, Kagome found her opinion of the Professor-From-Hell to be changing dramatically. If she was indeed the heartless old hag that everyone made her out to be, then she had to have some kind of multiple personality disorder. There was also a very caring side to the professor, and Kagome felt bad, horrible actually, that she'd made assumptions towards the woman's character based off of mere hallway rumors. As she took a deep relaxing breath, she pushed herself up off the floor and pulled on her tennis shoes. A nice long walk was what she needed, something to loosen her up and air out her seemingly too stuffed skin. Maybe she'd pick up some ramen while she was out, oh and sukiyaki, too. So, she reached into her jeans pocket just to be certain that her keys were indeed there, then she opened the door once more and left. She took the stairs two at a time, stopping to wave and say "hello" to the cheer squad.

Kagome's whole week had been slow and monotonous, Sango and Miroku serving as her only solace. They alone seemed to offer encouragement and a strange form of contentment. In fact, Sango herself had asked her on more than one occasion during the week if she would want to join them on one of their increasingly frequent outings. But she would insist that the two would have more fun without her to drag along behind them. Constantly, she had insisted that she needed to get serious about her midterm; if only she could make the ever elusive youkai inside her head believe that as well then she would be set. So, with a few thousand yen tucked safely in her back pocket, Kagome wandered the streets of downtown Kyoto. It was only six in the afternoon, and children rummaged through the toy stores while their parents attempted to keep them in line. Variations of "Okaa-san, can I have this" were constantly met with even more creative replies, which in turn all boiled down to the same answer: "No".

She laughed lightly at the woman's plight, remembering that her mother had had to say the same word to her and her brother on multiple occasions once upon a time ago. Now, though, Kagome hardly ever saw her family at all, being that they were all back in Tokyo and here she was in Kyoto. More often than not, she'd found herself wishing for a moment with her mother, the stress from her upcoming midterms nearly sending her into tears. She wouldn't cry, though, she'd gone into Nanada-sensei's class knowing full well that the woman was a tougher-than-nails professor.

No matter how much she'd tried to keep her cool over the last week, Kagome couldn't help but feel a little in over her head. There had been moments when she'd wanted nothing more than to quit, to give up and go do something easier. But then, as if on command, she'd hear her mother's voice at the back of her mind saying: "Hey, don't give up! We all believe in you, so go for it, and don't worry, it'll be fine." So, she'd sigh and go back to drawing nonsensical scribbles on her sketch paper, remembering just how hard she'd worked to get into the university and how much her family had given up for her to be there.

She looked back at the woman and her little boys at the front of the toy store, telling them that they had pleanty of toys at home and they didn't need any more. The boys wouldn't have it, though, so they pulled out all the stops. Pouty mouths, crocodile tears, and puppy dog eyes, they sniffled up at her, begging all the same. Kagome knew it wouldn't be too long before the woman finally relented or dragged them away from the store altogether, there was only so much that a person could take, after all.

_I really do need to let them know how I am, though, _she thought to herself, watching in closely kept amusement as the woman relented. _Okaa-san always tells me exactly what I need to hear. I bet she's having trouble with Jii-san, too, what with his constant story telling._

It was not until she passed a pair of twins fighting over the last pack of a certain type of trading cards that she let her mind wander to the silver-haired youkai. Would the need to protect what was close to him, what was important to him, lead him to fight another for something? And if so, what would he want that could have held such value? What's more, would he even bother to fight for what he wanted or would he resort to petty trickery to obtain what it was that he wanted? Kagome stopped and sat down on one of the many benches that were located on the sidewalks up against buildings. This was what she was looking for, a rivalry and how the elusive youkai from the shadows of a story would fit into it. She had just found a chain of questions and answering them with what she already knew was what she would have to do in order to find her inspiration. Her heart fairly swam in her chest as it mimicked the itching in her fingertips, the itching that always came when she had an idea. And she was determined to catch this idea before it fluttered away in the cool wind.

First question: "Would the need to protect what was close to him, what was his, lead him to fight another for something?"

Well, surely everyone wanted something or another that someone else had in their possession, so it was entirely possibly. The need to protect what was his would certainly increase his desire to obtain something another had; but that meant that said "something" would have to be important, powerful. But why did he need to protect what was his? Here Kagome took out one of the many pens she almost always carried around with her. As an artist, she couldn't just let something she thought of, some flash of brilliance, simply flutter away. So she took off her men's dress shirt and, ignoring the slight chill of the breeze through her wife beater, and she began to write down her thoughts on the back.

Perhaps the reason he felt the need to protect what was near to him was because he lost something or someone due to a momentary weakness on his part. Someone he cared for deeply, a lover or perhaps a family member, or maybe a portion of his lands was lost, conquered by someone stronger. Maybe it was just a matter of foolish pride.Immediately, Kagome crossed out that last thought and the "something" from the thought prior. The lost "object" was decidedly a person, because the book, or at least what she had perceived from the book, had said that he was the strongest, so why would he lose something?

Second question: "What would he want that could have held such value?"

If he wanted something because he needed to protect, then his desired "object" was not a person, or at least not a singular person. Maybe an army, but that would have defeated the purpose of the youkai "himself" protecting what belonged to him. So she crossed out "person" and circled "object". The item would have to increase his power or maybe hold sentimental value, like an heirloom or something of that sort. But what would one leave their son back in the Sengoku Jidai? Surely not a tapestry or clothes and jewelry; what did warriors value? Then it hit her. The youkai needed something powerful that he could use to protect, so what better than a weapon of some sort, a sword which possessed great power? But if that was so, then how would he have lost it? … Maybe he received an heirloom, but the one he wanted wasn't given to him, maybe he had a sibling, a younger brother. But if he was the first and only "pure-blood" son…the second had to be a hanyou. But why would the younger get a sword while the heir did not? Now she was stumped. Why would the father grant the younger son such an heirloom and not the elder? Maybe he played favorites or something, who knew? So she put a star next to that last thought and moved on.

Third question: "Would he fight or would he use trickery?"

For some reason or another, Kagome couldn't imagine him stealing the sword from his brother. She was certain that he had honor, he was a daiyoukai after all. Maybe because he was the strongest of all the daiyoukai he believed trickery to be beneath him. So, she crossed out "trickery" and "stealing", then circled "fight" and "honor", making them stand out as much as possible.

By the time she had finished her entire chain of thought, the sky had grown dark and the hour late. Children no longer plagued the toy stores and parents had probably long since called out the baby-sitters so they might buy some time for themselves. Rave music pounded around every avenue like a pulsing heartbeat as the promise of flashing lights and hot bodies drew people in; most of them college students like herself. Neon shop signs shone throughout every run of sidewalk on both sides of every street. Kagome sighed to herself, leaning her head back and looking up into the perfest sapphire blue of the night sky. Then she noticed the pure white crescent moon that hung in the immense nothingness that extended far beyond even the tallest building in Kyoto, the bright glow contrasting sharply with the darkness around it. Smiling, she looked back to the space around her instead of the kind that was beyond her reach.

As promising as all of downtown Kyoto was, Kagome needed to get back to her apartment and snag at least a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow would definitely be spent doing hours and hours worth of sketches in order to find the perfect form for the silver-haired youkai. So, she stood up from her spot on the bench, folded her shirt, holding it under her arm, and stretched out before making her way home. But her mind kept drifting back to her project, and then it dawned on her. Professor Nanada hadn't necessarily been warning her, or even providing her with advice. No, she'd given Kagome the proper motivation with which her mind had used to break the rust covering the steel trap so that it could snap again. The old woman had known exactly what she was doing when she had come to see Higurashi Kagome scant hours earlier.

_No,_ Kagome decided, _she's definitely not the "Professor-From-Hell" anymore. I need to thank her on Monday for her "advice"._

With new re-assurance and ideas tucked under her belt, she nearly skipped all the way back to her apartment. At least she would have, but then she spotted a dark and shadowy figure heading towards downtown on her side of the street. There was a great aura surrounding him, though, one that she couldn't ignore no matter how hard she tried. It was like a cloak of darkness that made her want to solve the mystery that she had begun to associate with him.Usually she would have stayed away, but this particular shadowy figure had long silver hair like the demon in her head.

_Probably just bleached platinum blonde,_ she told herself, trying desperately to rationalize her situation. _The light is the only reason it looks silver…unless it's a wig or something. Not that it matters anyway, 'cause he's probably just another techno-junkie going to see what unsuspecting girl he can get in to his bed tonight._

With her mind put to rest and her better senses placed firmly in the foreground, Kagome looked down at the sidewalk as she and the shadowy figure drew closer to each other. However, despite her forementioned decision that he vas /not/ her special dancing demon, she couldn't stop the butterflies that grew in her stomach. It frustrated her, she knew she was being an absolute loon, expecting a /demon/ to be walking down th estreets of Kyoto, the demon that she'd most likely just made up with her over-active imagination, no less. It probably had something to do with the sleepiness that was creeping into her brain, the shear exhaustion that was making her blink her eyes constantly to keep them from fogging up any more than they already had.

Perhaps it was something like destiny or fate, or maybe it was because at that particular moment Kagome had felt the urge to yawn. But right when she raised her unoccupied hand to cover her mouth and her eyes nearly closed; she and the figure collided. The both of them turned inward toward each other, and in that instant, cerulean eyes met the most brilliant molten gold. She'd found it, him, the one she'd been searching for in the back of her mind for the whole past week. Higurashi Kagome finally saw the face that had evaded her since the first time she had seen into the book of Sengoku Jidai fairy tales. He was older, years older, but here he was, and he was the most beautiful inspiration that any artist could hope to lay eyes upon…

.. NEKO!

Fwee! Changed the formatting _again_! So hopefully it's easier to read now. And again, if you're thinking "Who the hell writes ideas on their clothes?" I'm raising my hand, yes, I'm admitting it, I write ideas and sketch on my clothes, you should see them, they're horrendous.  
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	4. My Beautiful Inspiration

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.**

_My Beautiful Inspiration  
Chapter 4_

Glowing silver strands surrounded him as he gracefully eased himself back into step; Kagome, was not so lucky. She tripped over her feet for another few feet before she finally got ahold of herself and took a better look at him. She still couldn't believe it, he was here, alive, when he and his race were supposed to be long dead. He was still beautiful and full of that same ethereal grace, just like the last time she had seen him, in the bright shining light of the sun in a forest of Kami knew how long ago.

"A ... ano ..." she started, not quite knowing what ot say, not even knowing if he would remember her at all.

Standing there, in the glow of neon signs and shop lights, she realized just how majestic and untouchable he was. If he _was_ the same demon boy she'd met for those few seconds years ago, why would he remember her? It had probably been centuries for him and there had been wars and revolutions and the world had changed so significantly that she was most likely nothing more than a minor annoyance to him in the grand scheme of things. But still, she _wanted_ him to remember her, the way she remembered him and it was so irrational and selfish that she was immediately ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing.

"Aisumimasen. I should have paid more attention to where I was going."

He didn't utter a word to her, only barely glancing over her form with those molten gold eyes before he turned and walked away. His hair, bound at the back of his neck, swayed slightly with every graceful step he took, taunting her, accusing her and she found she couldn't look away. Kagome was mesmerised in his movements and then he was gone. Disappeared in the haze of neon signs and throbbing music of downtown Kyoto.

Kagome huffed snapping out of her daze, her emotions shifting from one side of the spectrum to the other, how rude could some people be? She had apologized, but he had looked at her as if she were some sort of leper then simply waltzed off, like a snotty ballerina. Sure, she'd wanted to tell him off for being such an arrogant asshole, but her better judgment told her that doing such a thing wouldn't be too incredibly smart. The anger she felt just beneath her skin simmered just as quickly as it had started to boil up, and she remembered her skin screaming at her when he had touched her, when he was close to her. Something deep inside of her had shrieked at her to get away from him, far away, no matter how enchanting and familiar he seemed. She sensed power inside of him, power and danger and Kami was he gorgeous. Kagome couldn't help it, she was a girl, and every girl liked a gorgeous guy ... demon ... oh shit what was she thinking? He _was_ dangerous ... the fact that he was the daiyoukai, the young demon boy she had seen, was utterly undisputable now. If she could feel his power brushing up against her skin like waves of water, then he _had_ to be something other than human. But a new realization struck her just then. The daiyoukai from the shadows of both the book and her mind had a face, an identity, and then excitement decided to cut into her veins like a life-giving I.V. feed.

Her emotions were taking her on a roller coaster rife, and Kagome had a feeling of both dread and thrill that she might never be able to get off this particular ride. Hell, her midterms were as good as done now. Her muse was fed, the wall shattered, and if she wanted to get anything done in the next two weeks she had to get to work as soon as possible. Oh, this was just too perfect. The face she'd been looking for had found her again; just like that, she had inspiration, a cure to the artists's ultimate disease. Kagome already knew enough demon lore to complete the transformation from human to demon. Because she had studied markings and armor, clothing and even sword design, she was set. Now all she had to do was come up with six different perspectives and then she would paint them down on the canvases no problem. She giggled out loud at her joyous discovery and danced all the way home.

-.- NEKO!

Since the early hours of the morning, Kagome had been sketching furiously, as if trying to shove every one of her ideas into a single image. She had all but danced in the door the night before, looking positively giddy, then she'd taken a shower and gone strait to bed. But images of the demon danced through her dreams just as she had danced through the streets last night. She saw crescent moons in brilliant sapphire blue and two pairs of res streaks of neon light, but mostly, she had been haunted by those stoic golden eyes. Now, she tried to extract every movement he had made and put it onto the paper before her, as if doing so would unlock some door that lead to all the answers she was searching for. Both recycling bins in the apartment were impossibly full of drawn-on-then-crumpled-up paper that looked to belong to a whole class full of artists and not just one. But the fact that Kagome was the only person awake at seven o'clock in the morning on a Sunday was proof enough that she was the only source of the ruined paper.

_He looked so cold, _she thought as she pushed the dying pencil across a clean sheet of paper. _But he seemed sad, lonely, when I was reading the book, almost as if he knew he was being done away with. It's like he was wearing a mask or something, like he was trying to appear unemotional so that nothing would hurt him. Wait...that's it!_

The image from Kagome's mind flowed through her pencil, shapes taking form as actual things. Her own scrutiny guided the lines of graphite that colored the sketch paper, other, lighter lines providing for crude shading. Notes and pointers were written next to certain areas, thoughts along with sudden ideas bordering the edges of the paper. And she was so involved in her art, her attempt to re-create a preternatural perfection on paper that, once again, she didn't notice when Sango looked over her shoulder at what she was doing.

"_Wow!_" her friend exclaimed, "where did you get that idea?"

Kagome hadn't jumped out of her seat as the ebony eyed girl expected, instead she simply stopped, all functions frozen in place. For a few moments she said nothing, only looked over what she'd drawn, what she had created. Then she took a deep breath and came out of her strange trance-like state, her eyes focusing for the first time on the image borne from the chaotic thoughts swimming around in her head.

"What was that you said?" Kagome asked.

Sango smirked at her friend, "I asked where you got your idea from."

"Oh, well...I went downtown yesterday afternoon, you know, to try and clear my head. Then I somehow ended up assessing every aspect of this youkai no kimi I read about in one of the books I bought last weekend," she motioned towards to her raggedy dress shirt that was lying on the floor, the notes she'd jotted down on the back facing her. "Then, on my way back here, I ran into this…I guess…raver, thechno-junkie kinda guy. Anyhow...he kind of, I dunno...he seemed like he was frozen, but that doesn't sound right.

"It was so weird, Sango-chan, 'cause I think he's the booy that I met the first time I saw into the Sengoku Jidai book! He older, though, I mean, he's not the same cute little guy I saw in th eforest. Oh, no, he is freaking gorgeous. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not going to get obsessed or anything, I'll most likely never even see him again. But I'm only going to use his face, he'll be my un-official model."

Sango gave her a weak smile, looking like she wanted desperately to tell her something, but then she turned back to Kagome's sketch. For a moment, Kagome wanted to know what her friend was hiding, what she'd get _that_ look on her face for, but she didn't press tha issue, Sango would tell her when the time came, she always did. Then she went back to skimming her eyes over the graphite lines on the paper, looking to make sure she hadn't missed any details of importance.

"You want some coffee? I heard you get up at like two in the morning," she offered as her friend looked over the sketch again and again, searching for any missed details.

"Sure! You should tell me how things are going between you and Souma-san as well. I need to know if I should give him any more pointers or whatnot, now that you're seriously dating," she said, gazing back up at Sango with a bright smile.

So the two of them headed towards the kitchen, Sango to brew coffee and Kagome to fry a couple of tomagoyaki for a quick breakfast. They were something her mother had taught her how to cook long before she'd been accepted into the university, but because making them was easy and quick, they were the perfect breakfast for busy college students. And soon after, the smells of good food and even better coffee filled the two room flat. A few minutes later, the two girls sat across from each other at the abused black lacquer table, eating their tomagoyaki and drinking deeply of the 'nectar of life'.

"So, where did Souma-san take you for dinner?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

"We went to the new restaurant uptown, you know, the really fancy Italian one?"

"Oh, how sweet, did the two of you have a lot of fun?"

Sango nodded and smiled joyously, "Yeah, thanks for giving us the idea. You're just too good to me sometimes, Kagome-chan."

"You're my best friend, that's what I'm here for. Besides, now Souma-san will quit asking me about you all the time," she laughed. "Are you two going to do anything else this weekend or are you going to wait until next Friday?"

"Why?" the other girl asked with an exaggerated snort. "Are you that interested in being here all by yourself that much?"

"No, no!" Kagome waved her hands defensively, "I was just wondering, honestly. I think it's really great that the two of you get along so well. Besides, you look a lot happier than you have for ... well, fo ra while now."

It was true; Sango had gotten to be more and more pleasant each day that she spent with Miroku. He seemed to cleanse her very soul, the fact that he was a lecher notwithstanding. As it turned out, Miroku was the descendant of a line of lecherous houshi, dating all the way back to the Sengoku Jidai. It was this very fact that had drawn Kagome to him. He had even told her of his family's history when he had learned of her fascination with the Sengoku Jidai Era.

"Ne, Kagome," Sango said suddenly, drawing her from her thoughts, "How come you aren't dating anyone?"

She couldn't help it, she had to laugh. Not because her friend's question, no, it was far from funny. But she laughed because nearly everyone she knew had asked her that same question. "Gomen," she muttered, her laughter dying mere seconds later, "I just don't think I would date anyone here."

At this admittance the ebony eyed girl cocked an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Here, in this university, we are all consumed by our art," she said, her words suddenly turning strange and serious. "We live for each breath of inspiration and in doing that we don't have time for anything or anyone else. You're lucky in that you have a knack for what you do; you have tons of free time left to you. I, however, don't have the luxury of time at all. Besides, I'm content enough with the way I am right now."

"You're content?" she asked skeptically, "You mean you actually like watching people go out with their significant others while you don't have anyone to spend time with? You like watching couples pass you when you walk down the street when you're all alone?"

"I really don't understand what you're getting at," Kagome stated, confusion crossing her features, "I spend time with you and Miroku-san."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Kagome sighed and looked down at her empty plate on the table, shaking her head slightly.

"Sango, for someone to be truly content, they must be able to find joy in the happiness of others."

"Everyone needs someone to complete them, Kagome. You're no exception. I'm glad you got Miroku and me together, I really am, but I wish you'd let me return the favor."

"But, Sango," Kagome said in pretend shock, "didn't you already know that art is my one true love and that there can be no other?"

The two of them laughed at the truly lame attempt at humor, and Sango had apparently decided that she'd let the subject go for now. "Gee, Kag-chan. You're an artist, a director of drama, a writer of poetry, and to top it all off, you've taken up philosophy as well. No wonder you don't have time for a relationship with a real guy, you're balancing _four_ different affairs."

-.- NEKO!

Sango did indeed have a date with Miroku that day and Kagome was left at the apartment by herself. She had gone out to the art supply store earlier that day and bought a few more sketch pads as well as a couple dozen pencils. Her drawing session that morning had nearly famished her entire two-year collection of drawing utensils and paper. Not to mention she'd had to empty both recycle bins into the university's paper dumpster, and that had nearly gotten her into trouble; students weren't supposed to use the recycle dumpster, something about it overflowing if they did… So now Kagome was sitting on her barstool in front of a blank canvas, trying to decide whether or not the sketch she'd drawn earlier was good enough for her still-frame drama. True, it was extremely elegant and spoke volumes, but would it do justice for the daiyoukai?

This indecision was maddening, she couldn't believe that she was debating over a sketch that she knew to be ingenious, because of a character in her head. Not to mention that she had looked for his face all over Kyoto and made a complete ass of herself in front of what was probably the most gorgeous guy she would ever meet. This was getting to be ridiculous. She picked up a paintbrush, dipped it into one of the many colors she had prepared and brushed a stroke onto the fabric. Another stroke followed and another, until all Kagome knew was the colors and the shapes. An occasional glance was spared to the sketch paper; but the paper was not meant to be a blueprint, merely a set of rules to keep her inside the lines and on the right track. Shade after color, curve after baseline, she let her masterpiece unfold, staining the canvas in a flurry of both brilliance and ignorance. Or maybe it was insanity, she couldn't tell anymore. For nearly three hours, she was entranced in her silent dance of artistic movement and soft colors. Then, with one final stroke of color, she was finally finished.

Despite her earlier anger at her mindset concerning the daiyoukai, she felt that she had done well, given the limited information available to her. The perfectly sculpted face now had two magenta stripes adorning each cheek and a sapphire blue crescent moon in the middle of his forehead framed by those otherworldly silver bangs. He wore a white hakama, which had a red sakura blossom pattern adorning his left shoulder and bulky iron armor covering his chest. Silky silver hair hung loose over behind him while snow fell in front of a mountain in the background. But it was what the daiyoukai was doing that actually made the painting as moving as it was.

He held in his left hand a stoic looking fukumen no furui, and it was held with graceful fingers over only a part of his face. The part of his face that the mask didn't cover was full of a silent kind of sorrow, as if someone he had cared for deeply had been taken from him and he felt sole responsibility rested on his shoulders. A part of her soul wanted to cry, to be ashamed for portraying such a heart-wrenching scene, but it was the part of her that wanted to understand the daiyoukai that stood up highest. It was this part of her that allowed her to say, "I did a really good job, way to go, Kagome" that spoke the loudest. So she set down her paintbrush and once she actually saw the lonliness she'd poured from her heart onto the canvas, she found it hard to look at and turned away.

_I shouldn't have painted that, _she thought to herself, still looking away from the canvas she'd just completed. _I don't have the right to push my feelings onto him, even if he'll never see this.  
_

Kagome wondered what she should do with it for a moment. Should she burn it or keep it? Would she allow her emotions to override her common sense or would she get over it and turn it in to Nanada-sensei so that she'd be that much closer to a passing grade? Then she shook her head, planting her paint-covered hands firmly over her ears as she smacked her head against a proverbial brick wall. She was being so damn stupid, she couldn't allow herself to fail just because she was worried about what _he_ would think. Hell, he wouldn't even see it after midterms were over, no one would. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

-.- NEKO!  
Fucking ahhhhhh! I don't know why the HELL all of my chapters are being so fsucking retarded with the formatting, it loses I tell you, loses ... right in the face! But I fixed it I hope, happy reading.  
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	5. What Are You?

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.**

_What Are You?  
Chapter 5_

Monday…

The first day of a whole new week…

But it wasn't just any week…

No...it was the second week…

But this time, Kagome was ready for it. She would take this new week head-on with both determination and pure instinct as far as her paintings went. The first of her six canvases was complete, now for the second. Well…maybe she'd start after class was over, professors were just too damned nosy sometimes and she didn't work well when someone was standing over her shoulder. So she wrote down her ideas for the next painting, thoughts flowing through her pen like water through a river bend.

"Higurashi," came the professor's voice from beside her.

She jumped slightly, her writing coming to a complete halt in an instant. "Nanada-sensei."

The elderly woman smiled slightly, "So, you have found your muse then?"

Kagome smiled back, "Hai. Arigatou for speaking to me on Saturday, sensei, you helped me alot."

"Do itashimashite, Higurashi. I look forward to seeing your work, as always," she stated before moving on to look at another of her student's progress.

The professor sure wasn't who Kagome had expected her to be. Nanada Kaede-san was a mystery that both met and surpassed all of her expectations. She was full of wisdom and had helpful tactics with which to approach students in order to motivate or encourage them to do better than even the students themselves thought possible. Surprisingly enough, Nanada Kaede was also one of the few people that Kagome knew to have ancestry dating back to the Sengoku Jidai. Apparently, she was the descendant of a long line of extremely well renowned miko, one of which had supposedly protected an object of extreme power at the temple Kagome had grown up in. It seemed that the very era followed Kagome around like a plague, like it was constantly trying to remind her of the book that just barely hid the existence of a lonely, silver-haired youkai no kimi.

RIINNNGGGG!

Despite the undeniable scream of the bell and the thunder of forty-two students all standing up to leave at the same time, Kagome somehow managed to not notice. Her pen still moved from word to sentence to paragraph to page in a flurry of nearly incoherent thoughts. Flipping through the pages of her notebook, making random sketches here and there for emphasis when she finally got the chance to paint.

Her fingers itched still, they had since she had seen him, the one she had taken to calling her "inspiration" when other people were about. Otherwise she called him nothing, she just watched him dance through her thoughts or stand quietly in the forest looking as he had the first time she had seen him. But that didn't alter the fact that her fingers felt like they were going to melt if she didn't _do_ something. So, she sketched and jutted down her ideas and sketched and sketched and sketched until she was sure that she'd never be able to use her poor abused fingers again. She glanced up almost five whole minutes after the bell had rung to find that she was alone in the room. Looking back down at her writing she sighed then let out a slightly annoyed "damn it" and snapped her book shut before shoving both it and her pencils into the worn messenger bag at her side. Nanada-sensei smiled and waved when she finally shot up out of her seat.

Kagome had been so determined to get back to her flat that she hadn't noticed her best friend as she sprinted through the threshold. The two of them stumbled backwards a few steps before they glared at each other playfully. Sango opened her mouth to say something witty, but closed it abruptly and turned a pretty impressive shade of red. She swung around and slapped Miroku right across the mouth just as Kagome noticed the look of pure bliss covering his features.

"My hand _must_ be cursed," he mumbled, holding up the offending appendage with his perpetual perverted grin still firmly in place. "But it's always worth it."

"I'll have you know, Souma Miroku-san, that the hallway is _not_ an appropriate place for that!" Sango admonished in a fierce whisper. Then she turned and looked at a most amused Higurashi Kagome, who was trying her best to not burst out laughing.

"Don't speak, just listen. Miroku and I have tickets to Miyavi's winter concert, that's tonight, and we both insist that you come with us. Neither of us is going to accept "no" as an answer, nor will we listen to _any_ of your rather well thought-up excuses. I saw your canvas this morning, and what with the short amount of time it took you to finish it in, you'll be fine with the other five."

Kagome took a moment to ingest all of this information, blinking away the vacant look she'd acquired when Sango had started on her little rant. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as both of her friends led her back to the apartment she and Sango shared. She really loved Miyavi's music, and that was a pro in the way of should she go or shouldn't she. Not to mention that one: Miyavi tickets were extremely hard to come by, and two: she hadn't been to any sort of concert since Tokyo-con a few years ago. There would also be tons of people there with which came a million chances for her to find a new idea for her midterms. So, all signs pointed towards the "go for it" option and she couldn't think of any reason not to attend.

"What time does it start?" she asked the two behind her.

"Seven-thirty, but Miroku is going to come over at six because I kind of told him that it was your night to cook dinner. So, since he wanted to try your food since forever, says he, I thought it couldn't hurt, ne?" Sango asked with a small grin.

"Ano ... I guess not, but what am I supposed to make? We've only got four hours until then and I really want to get some more ideas down for my second piece," she insisted.

"So you're coming then?"

Kagome nodded slightly, sighing, "Do I really have a choice?"

Sango smiled brightly, "No, you don't."

-.- NEKO!

_What am I gonna draw?_ she wondered as she sat as her desk, a blank sheet of paper lying in front of her face. No matter how hard she had tried to find some way to relate her ideas to the daiyoukai, she just couldn't get them to fit. She was making an alternate universe fanfiction out of a perfectly wonderful anime, and her story _really_ sucked, blew the big one it did. It was like piecing together a puzzle, she'd decided, only some of the pieces were warped from over use and environmental damage or missing altogether.

"Stupid puzzle pieces and...the being flimsy...and...uhg, what am I gonna do?"

_He's the strongest of all the daiyoukai; so maybe, if the daiyoukai are the strongest in all of Japan, he can defeat anyone. But would he be on the good side or the evil one? Would they be one in the same, or would the line between the two distinguish them as total opposites?_

It would seem that she had to think on his character once more, but was she even close to how he actually acted, or was she so far off the mark it wasn't even the same person anymore? _A.U fanfiction indeed. _Kagome took a deep breath and rubbed her tired eyes before glancing back at the blank paper that seemed to taunt her more and more with each passing second. So she threw her pencil at it and spat raspberries as if to prove a point ... what is was, though, she really didn't know.

"Teach you to taunt me."

Surely he wouldn't have picked a side to fight on, at least not so much that a particular group could distinguish him. She had to believe that while he would fight against one of the two opposing forces, he wouldn't devote himself entirely to the other. The daiyoukai seemed to have far too much pride to let himself be thought of as an equal by anyone else. Kagome sensed that he simply wished to be distinguished as the strongest amongst anyone and everyone that dared to draw breath into their lungs while they were in his presence. Even if one side, one army, was darker than any other, Kagome was absolutely certain that he wouldn't side with anyone because no one sided with him. She didn't presume to know the truth of who was or was not loyal to him, but she could at least assume that he had a retainer, a vassal, of sorts, that followed him. Not an army...but someone that looked up to him for his strength or because he was a great leader.

_Got it,_ she thought, jotting down notes and ideas once more.

"Hey, Kagome," Sango called from the living room. "It's five forty-five, are you done yet or do you want me to make dinner?"

For the first few moments, she didn't answer as she finished her hasty scribbling on the margins of her sketch paper. "I'm coming, I'm coming, no problems here, everything's just peachy." Then she set down her pencil and headed towards the kitchen, nothing but the promise of food occupying her mind.

Kagome pulled out the noodles and spices from the cupboards, her mouth fairly watering as she thought of the perfect recipe. It was another one that her mother had taught her sometime in the midst of her high school years. The two of them had dubbed it "The Most Perfect Ramen Recipe _Ever_".

_I need to give her a call tomorrow, _she thought as she brought the pot full of water to a boil. _I hope everyone's doing alright._

-.- NEKO!

Miroku had come over at six, just as Sango had said he would, two bouquets of flowers hidden behind his back as Sango let him in. He pulled the first out and bowed as he presented it to her with a bright smile on his face. "For you, aikouka," he told her. She had blushed prettily as he handed the white roses to her, taking a second to kiss him on the cheek before she rushed off to put them in some water. Miroku had followed her and presented the second bunch, daisies this time, to Kagome, who had thanked him with a tight hug.

"Go ahead and sit down, Souma-san, I'm not quite finished yet," Kagome told him as she arranged the flowers in a vase that she had stowed above the refrigerator.

He smiled at her, his violet eyes sparkling, "Well I guess I have to listen to the cook in her own kitchen."

As he walked out, to find Sango no doubt, Kagome giggled lightly. Her two friends were good for each other, she decided, adding the last touch of spices to the boiling pot. They were both considerate and caring and sometimes way too weird to be normal but she loved the both of them all the same. _Yeah, they're good for each other, _she thought with a confirming nod, _they heal each other's hurts._

"You almost done in there?" Sango demanded in a playful impatience, "The concert's gonna be over before you're done!"

"Hold your horses, I'm draining the water right now!" Kagome yelled back with her sternest voice, "I promise I won't let you starve."

"But Kagome-sama, I fear I am starved of your pleasant attention, you've been s-"

... and he was cut off by the sound of Sango's hand connecting with what was most likely his face. Kagome shook her head and laughed out right as she shook the strainer a little to get the remaining water out, he was just too much sometimes. Taking three bowls from the cabinet over the sink, she divided teh ramen between the three of them and meandered into the dining area to find Miroku with a red hand print on the side of his face, again, and Sango looking away from him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well," Kagome said, handing out the ramen, "when you two are done acting like petulant children, we'll eat, ne?"

Miroku placed his hand on Sango's shoulder, "Sango-san, may I ask you a question or extreme importance?"

Sango turned to him, an curious look crossing her features as she uncrossed her arms, "I suppose so, Miroku, what is it?"

He took one of her hands in his own and looked expectantly at her, "Would you bear my child, Sango-san?"

She blushed all over and turned quickly from him, as if to hide her reaction to his words. "So-Souma-san, you've already asked me that before."

"I simply felt compelled to ask you again, aikouka."

Kagome couldn't help it, they acted like such children, so she laughed, softly at first then louder when she couldn't hold it back anymore. "You two ... giggle are so laugh funny."

Sango and Miroku both looked at her then at each other before laughing along with her. For a few moments that's all they did, then when they settled down they finally started eating the ramen that Kagome had so graciously set before each of them. Miroku took a bite and let it sit in his mouth before his eyes went wide and he looked like he was about to cry.

"Kagome-sama," he said with a sniffle, "This is the best cooking I've ever had."

Kagome's eyebrows had raised at his spectacle and she nodded slightly with a rather unsure look on her face as he spoke, "I'm glad you like it, Souma-san, but I don't think it's _that_ good."

Miroku shook his head and finished swallowing the second bit of ramen he had eaten, "I fear you are too modest, Kagome-sama, you see, Sango-san can't cook at all."

Sango punched him in the arm, glaring at him menacingly, "I can _so_ cook, you just don't know it." Then she stuck her tongue out at him and went back to eating.

"That arm is going to fall off one day if you keep hitting it like that," Miroku pouted, rubbing the offended limb before taking another bite of his ramen.

They three of them finished dinner in the same manner, Miroku commenting shamelessly on one thing or another and Sango promptly responding in a rather violent way. And all Kagome did was laugh, quietly thinking to herself: _They so deserve each other._

When the ramen was finished and Miroku laying on the floor with various bumps and swirling eyes, she gathered the dishes, washing them quickly before both she and Sango went to change clothes for the concert.

_What do I have that I could wear to a concert?_ Kagome asked herself as she rifled through her closet finding worn hoodies and jeans and a skirt or two every so often. It wasn't until she found a long lost 1980's style sweatshirt that she finally came upon an idea. Grabbing the black sweatshirt, a clean wife beater and a pair of badly worn jeans with gaping holes in the knees and some just a little higher, she dressed accordingly.

When she emerged from her room she walked in on something she probably shouldn't have. Miroku's lips were pressed against Sango's and his hands holding her hips firmly against hers as the two of them pressed against each other. She squeaked, turning away quickly and heading back to her room, but she had a sinking feeling that they had heard her. "G-gomen," she muttered, stepping through the threshold.

"Wait, Kagome," Sango called out to her, "Sorry, we just kind of got caught up and we didn't hear you open the door."

A furious blush still covered Kagome's cheeks as she turned back to them, not looking up at them but rather a the floor before the two. "Yeah well, get a room next time," she said with a slight laugh as the three of them gathered their composure, the two girls blushing while Miroku just stood there smiling. _Apparently they're better for each other than I thought._

They left the apartment in silence shortly after, Kagome walking a few feet in front of her two friends as if to give them a little privacy on the way to the convention center. Then Sango spoke up after nearly five minutes of complete silence.

"Are you okay, Kagome-chan? You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," she managed to squeak out, "I just didn't expect that and I feel bad, having interrupted your moment."

"That's all right, Kagome-sama, after all, we kiss all the time," Miroku commented shamelessly.

Then Kagome stopped walking altogether and Sango smacked him for what could have been the twelfth time that day. "Don't _say_ that," she insisted, a blush forming on her cheeks again.

Almost another five minutes later, they stood amongst nearly a thousand other people, both college students from various universities and other young people alike were gathered to watch the show. The opening band had a lot of energy, something like a mix of T. M. Revolution and Do As Infinity without the same hot guys running around on stage. They weren't original in the way they ran their music, though, and Kagome knew that if they ever wanted to _be_ something, they'd have to change what they played. The crowd today loved them, though, mostly because they were from Kyoto University, and as far as Kagome was concerned, they were all right for now.

Then the announcer walked up to the front of the stage and tapped on the microphone a couple of times. "Are you ready?" the man asked the already excited attendees and Kagome couldn't help but hope that was a rhetorical question, otherwise that made him really stupid. The crowd screamed and yelled their anticipation and excitement, all of them going into a wild frenzy as they tried to quicken their obsession's approach. The announcer gave them a smile that nearly covered his face and nodded his approval then directed one hand to indicate the band as they waited to be ushered onto the stage. "Please welcome…MIYAVI!"

/Oh, wow/ Kagome thought, watching Miyavi dance on stage like the energetic ball of laughter he was. _For some reason I'm really quite ashamed that I haven't been to a concert in so long, I don't think I could even sing the words to the songs if someone asked me to._

His very presence there made the entirety of of those watching combust into a writhing mass of screams of pure excitement and something she couldn't quite place. Something primal, something simple and yet so complicated that the people moved like waves as they watched him move across what was obviously _his_ stage. They wanted him. Not only did they want him to perform with his band, they _wanted_ him in a rage of hormones and lust.

Then, a hush fell over the crowd and the music started to play slowly at first, then louder and stronger and faster until it thrummed through their veins. Sango and Miroku began to dance with the rest of the crowd while Kagome watched the vocalist on the stage. He moved and sang like he was controlling them, mastering their senses with his hypnotic melody and it was all they could do just to move right along with him. The words to his songs fell from his mouth like a waterfall, feeding the audience with its aphrodisiac-like tune.

She unconsciously took a few steps back, shaking her head so that she could focus on something, anything … and tripped over something only to crash into someone else, someone with a very nicely sculpted chest. Strong hands gripped her shoulders to steady her as she muttered apologies to the person she'd tripped on and the one who held her; she looked down at the one who had caused her fall. Then she grabbed onto the person she'd fallen into, her eyes fixed on the strange and freakish creature before her. The thing had green skin, beady yellow eyes, and closely resembled a kaeru, and it looked up at her with a most startled expression on its face.

"Y…you can see me?"

_How could I not see you?_ Kagome wanted to yell, but instead, she offered a severely incomprehensive, "Gomen nasai."

A rather annoyed sounding "Feh" came from the person she was still holding on to. She continued to watch the kaeru thing as he hurried away, muttering something about how someone was going to kill him and bring him back only to torture him further. Then, when it was gone, disappeared through the legs of the crowd, she tried to think of a proper apology for the person she was still hanging on to before looking at him. When she did, though, her eyes widened and she nearly died of shock. It was the other one, the hanyou, and now she was certain that she was insane. The characters from her still frame drama were appearing before her eyes, none of which were even supposed to exist, or so she thought. He had puppy-dog ears atop his head and they twitched every now and again, supposedly listening to the artist on stage, and his amber eyes bored into hers. Wait ... amber ... kind of like his, but ... no, they were different, very different. This person's emotions shone clearly in his eyes, while the other ... the other's were like steam and ice at the same time, betraying nothing.

The hanyou look-alike then looked at her and lowered his face to hers until their noses were almost touching, "What 'cha lookin' at?"

Kagome yelped, shocked out of her…well, shock. "Oh, Kami. What's going on? How…how can you exist? Or him," she asked pointing after the kaeru-like creature, "and especially HIM." She was referring to the person she had met resembling the daiyoukai, though, how the hanyou knew about him she wasn't so sure. "That's it, I knew this would happen one day; just have them ship me off because I've finally snapped. Fmay mumfhhi ko Haphgumi."

The silver haired boy jumped back a step when she started her rambling, then placed a hand over her mouth in an attempt to shut her up. And after a few more mumblings, she did. "Look," he told her, "I know you think you're crazy, I'm not going to tell you different because you probably are. But, you know something that you shouldn't know and we have no idea how in the hell you know it."

She pulled at his hand, her heart racing in her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you people?" she whispered almost desperately.

One of his ears twitched at her words, almost as if he'd been hurt by them somehow, but he said nothing. Instead he just stood, though, inspecting her as if she were some sort of strange specimen beneath a microscope lense ... nothing new or entertaining ... just something worth staring at.

Kagome subconsciously knew that he wouldn't answer her question, that he was too proud to tell her what he was and then let her know that he wanted to be more. It was almost like he _expected_ her to know and somewhere inside of her mind she did know what the answer to her question was ... But a part of her _needed_ him to tell her that she was wrong, that this was all just a bad dream and not to worry because she'd be waking up any moment now. And still he stood there an arms length away from her and her fingers _itched_ again.

She sighed, relaxing her face as the irritation and sudden annoyance at the situation slipped from her in a single moment. Then, shoving her hands into her pockets in a vain attempt to cease the itching, she turned suddenly from him to disappear into the dense crowd. Besides, if he didn't affirm her suspicions when she'd asked her question, then _surely_ he could have disproved them just as easily, couldn't he? Of course he could.

"Hey!" she heard him call out to her as she clenched her hands into fists within her pockets.

_I don't want to know,_ she decided as she wound a path through the crowd, the gyrating bodies filling in the space as quickly as she had vacated it. _I'm going to go back to the apartment I share with my best friend and find something to paint, then I'll go to bed because I'm seriously going insane and it's not good to stay up past your bedtime if you're going insane,_ she chided herself, trying to find some sort of humor at her present situation. _Oh, no, bed first ... yes, bed ... sounds like a plan, Kagome._

_Yes, great plan, Kagome, I couldn't agree more._

_Thank you, Kagome, I appreciate your enthusiasm. and oh, by the way, did you know that I'm talking to myself?_

_Yes, I had noticed that, you should remedy that as soon as possible, it'll only get worse if you continue._

_I think I'll do that, thanks, Kagome._

_No problem, Kagome, and do get to sleep by bedtime, we wouldn't want this problem to progress further._

During her ... rather strangely unnerving conversation with herself, she vaguely realised that the hanyou look-alike was still following her and yelling at her to "wait the fuck up" as he put it oh so sweetly. But she continued to ignore him, intent upon getting home and hopefully keeping her sanity, or what was left of it, intact. So, she ducked into the crowd once more, heading towards the western exit, the one closest to where her apartment was. And only half a moment later she pushed the exit door open and, met with the crowd outside that was watching the concert on the oversized T.V. screens, pushed through even more dancing, raving bodies and singing voices.

With thoughts of her bed winding through her mind, she was soon on the other end of the enormously large group of people and headed home. But the encounter with the kaeru and the hanyou still unnerved her. She hadn't in her wildest dreams imagined that she'd encounter them for real, stand in their presence outside of one of the stories she had read. She'd never thought for a moment that she'd get the opportunity to truly be disgusted by one's presence and completely intrigued by another in the convention centre at her first concert in years. Kami was sending her a sign obviously, no more going to wild parties!

And then Kagome made a decision as she strode with determined steps down the sidewalk, hands firmly in her pockets and fingers still itching as she tried to look like any other college student on their way back to their apartment:

Things were about to get much, much more complicated, of that she was certain.

-.- NEKO!

This chapter is _still_ dedicated to Celestia Prye, for without her ideas this chapter would have been nonsensical and rather messed up applauds FYI: aikouka means lover or my love and kaeru means toad or frog. I'm still working on chapter six so please look forward to it ... in about a week - ' I'm such a slacker ...  
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